Doodles
by Chrysa Lite
Summary: Senior gal Franny likes doodling in class—not just doodles, but her name as her crush's wife! What happens when she falls for her teacher's aid, Cornelius Robinson, and he confiscates her doodles?


_**Heya, guys! It's me, RoyalDanielle, taking a venture into the world of MtR! Hooray! This thing could be the longest fic I've ever posted (I didn't say write). I'm rather proud of this. As this is my first ever MtR fic, be nice, people! Reviews would be totally appreciated! Flames will be used to make Franny's cheeks even redder in embarrassment. Wouldn't that be simply cute?! FRANELIUS FOREVER!**_

_Mrs. Francesca Jones. Mrs. Francesca Hamilton. Mrs. Francesca Johnson. Mrs. Francesca Farr._

Franny scornfully threw those doodles into the fireplace and watched them burn. None of those (not Eddie Jones, not Raymond Hamilton, not Ricardo Clayton, not Mark Farr) could compare to Francesca Framagucci's newest crush.

"Sweetie, I noticed you threw your doodles in the fire," Mom, or Angela Framagucci smiled at her daughter. "Does that mean you have a new lucky boy?"

Franny's cheeks flamed for a moment, but after half a second, they were back to amazing white. "No, Mother," she replied very primly. "I thought those papers have been a clutter for too long. I decided the quickest and warmest way to destroy them was to throw them in the fire."

"After drawing a dartboard and darts on them, of course, because you never do that unless you have found a new boy," Mom observed dryly. "Franny, I used to be a young girl too. Sit down and tell your mother about it."

"There's nothing to tell!" Franny burst out. She rushed up the stairs and slammed the door to her room.

Angela Framagucci stared after her daughter, then at the fire, and she laughed.

"I'll have fun watching her love story unfold."

* * *

Franny slid into her seat at the middle of the class, next to her best friend, Kayla Starr. Kayla was the only one out of all Franny's "friends" that wasn't completely fake or ditzy. She was actually very clever, like Franny, and pulled amazing grades.

"You were almost late," hissed Kayla.

"Sorry."

"You were almost _late_!" Darling, you're _never_ late. You'd think missing Cornelius Robinson's entrance into the classroom was the apocalypse! What happened?!"

Franny flamed scarlet, just like the night before with her mother. "I so do _not_ have a crush on Cornelius Robinson!" she cried, as she covertly slipped her newest doodle into her pocket.

"Uh-huh," Kayla said, clearly unconvinced. "So Cornelius Robinson's spiky yellow hair doesn't tempt you to run your hands through it..."

"_NO_!"

"...you never lose yourself in his gorgeous blue eyes..."

"I so _don't_!"

"Shut _up_!" hissed Janna Wilson, a nerdy little girl. "Mr. Robinson is coming!"

That was enough for Franny to immediately sit up straight and assume her perfected _attentive student_ look, and for Kayla to triumphantly snicker.

"Good morning, people," Cornelius Robinson smiled at everyone. "I'm saddened to inform you that Mr. Jenkins is, unfortunately, sick. Because of that—" he was interrupted by a chorus of cheers. "Ahem. Because of that, I don't think we'll have the long history essay on the Mayans that you were supposed to have today."

An even louder chorus of cheers erupted.

"Of course, if Ms. Masterson hears noises from this classroom, she'll force you to do the essay anyway."

The ploy worked. Every student was immediately bent over, apparently doing something "schoolwork-related."

Cornelius Robinson's (_"amazingly gorgeous baby blue,")_ eyes swept the room, and rested on Franny.

Now, what was Franny doing?

She had slipped out her newest doodle, and currently very engaged in sketching a name on her paper, and creating the most beautiful borders around it. She was so very engaged in making it perfectly beautiful that she used her No-Refill Markers (a very nifty little invention by _Cornelius Robinson_) to the best of her ability, and Franny did have a massive talent for sketches and doodles.

A shadow fell over her paper, and a deep, charming voice asked, "May I see that, Miss Framagucci?"

****

"I can't _believe _he took it just like that!" raged poor Franny Framagucci. "I hate him!"

Kayla hid a smile, and comfortingly soothed, "Oh, Franny, I'm sure it'll all blow over. Nobody saw the paper anyway, no one but him, so your popularity won't suffer."

"It's not the stinking popularity I care about!" Franny burst out. "It's his opinion...he'll _never_ like me again...he'll always think of me as that silly little girl who fell in love with her assistant teacher, Cornelius Robinson, the one utterly out of her league!"

"Love is a strong word, darling," Mom said as she stood in the doorway. "So Cornelius Robinson is the one who made my little girl's heart beat faster whenever he's around, huh?"

"_Mom_! What are you doing here?"

"A package just arrived in the mail. It's addressed to _Miss Francesca Framagucci_. Now, I only knew of _one_ Miss Francesca Framagucci, so I came up to give it to her."

"Who's it from?" Franny asked roughly. It was clear she was still very angry and upset.

"There's no return address."

Franny seized the package, but before she could rip it open in her anger, her mother added, "And there was a note with it, darling." And she handed her daughter a little note before fleeing downstairs.

"The package first," Kayla answered Franny's unasked question.

The angry sixteen-year-old tore the brown package-paper to shreds.

"Notes?!"

"Not _just_ notes," Kayla murmured as she picked one up. "Franny, they're all your doodles!"

"_What_?!"

"All your doodles!" she repeated. "Every single _Mrs. Francesca Robinson _doodle that you made is in here! Look!"

And indeed it was so. Franny blushed crimson when she looked through all of them.

"B-but—all of these were tossed under my bed!" she stammered, embarrassed. "Nobody could've gotten at them without breaking in or having inside help!"

Suddenly, Kayla gasped. "The note! Maybe it'll tell you who sent you all these!"

Without waiting for permission, Kayla snatched the note and read it out loud.

_To Francesca Framagucci—_

_I hope you'll forgive me for my stunt this morning, and for pilfering your doodles from your bed. They were excellently drawn, may I just say. If you are slightly upset and angry, I understand, and am ready to resign from my post as your assistant teacher._

_Yours truly,_

_Cornelius Robinson_

"So it was _him_."

Franny's voice betrayed the fury she felt.

"I'm more than _slightly upset_!" she growled. "I'm _INFURIATED_! How _DARE_ you, Cornelius Robinson! Just because you're the cutest boy in existence and a genius inventor, doesn't give you the _RIGHT_ to sneak in my house, steal my private doodles—"

"—which _were_ related to him, and do you know you're complimenting him?—" Kayla felt the urge to say, but didn't bother. There was no reasoning with an incensed Francesca Framagucci.

"—and send them _BACK_ after letting me survive an _AGONIZING_ afternoon, you—you _TORTURER_!"

Speechless with fury, Franny threw up her hands and fell on her bed.

Seeing that Franny was probably too exasperated to make conversation, Kayla decided to sift through the endless _Mrs. Francesca Robinson _doodles in the hopes of—what?—nothing, really.

Suddenly, her eyes spotted something on a bit of paper. After a split-second's reading, she gasped.

"Franny—I think he sent you something else."

"What? A _hate_ note? _'Oh Miss Framagucci, forgive me for not saying this to your face, but you're awfully ugly, I hate you...'_ " Franny spat as she sat up.

"No...Just look."

Nerveless fingers gingerly handled the piece of paper, so monetarily worthless, yet so precious...

_Mrs. Francesca Robinson._

In words, it was no different than the other notes. But the handwriting...the border work...

Instead of Franny's beautiful, curly handwriting, it was written in large, neat, but plain letters. Instead of countless hearts, waves and stars for a border, there were one or two elegantly drawn frogs, and a border made almost completely of _Cornelius and Franny_ in different colors of ink.

And written in the bottom right-hand corner: _C.L.R._ Cornelius Lewis Robinson.

It was undoubtedly his. His work, his love.

Franny sat, stricken dumb, mouthing the words over and over again, speechless and shocked. Kayla, sensing her need to be alone, slipped away quietly.

_Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson._

"No..." she whispered to herself. "It's a trick, Franny...he doesn't love you like that. Gaston and Art must've roped him in this. It's just another evil trick from Gaston and Art. Don't believe it, Franny..."

_Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson._

But _what if _it was real? What if she believed that it was just a trick, and later found out it _wasn't_, and he had already moved on with a pretty girl...Kayla, even? Was she willing to risk everything—his love, her love—to her foolish fear?

_Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson. _She had to make a choice, now. If she didn't, she risked losing everything.

_Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson._ _Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson. Mrs. Francesca Robinson._

The mantra still chanting in her head, poor Franny fell asleep.

* * *

All in all, Franny did not get to school altogether refreshed, or equipped with her usual enthusiasm to get to work. Kayla noticed this.

"Still undecided?"

Franny just sighed, and started taking _real_ notes. It was a sign of how unhappy with Cornelius she was that when said inventor came in the classroom, five minutes late, she hardly batted an eyelash.

Said inventor also seemed to notice this, and seemed particularly downcast and prone to errors that morning. When troublemaker Greg Montana threw a bottle cap straight at his head, he hardly seemed to care, and didn't even reprimand.

"Look, Franny, how long are you going to just sit there and _not care_ about Cornelius Robinson?!" Kayla suddenly burst out in a whisper. "Can't you see you're killing him?"

"Let him die."

_Whoa, emo,_ Kayla thought to herself. Aloud she continued passionately, "Just look at him! He's not himself when you're not yourself! Greg Montana just threw a bottle cap at his head and he doesn't even _care_! Franny, you're his _life_!"

"You make it sound like we're married or at the very least at the kissing stage," Franny observed dryly.

Just then, the bell rang, and the teens filed out, Franny quickest of all. However, Cornelius Robinson called out tiredly, "Miss Framagucci, stay back."

When everyone had filed out except for Franny and Cornelius, the spiky-headed blonde started speaking.

"I'm sorry, Franny. I—I thought a unique wake-up call to my feelings about you would—would lighten you up a bit after that mood you were in after class. But it blew up in my face...like my inventions. But it hurt even worse, because it hurt _you_. I tried to be sound cool and uncaring in my letter, but it backfired on me. And the worst part isn't my pain—it's your pain.

"I sound cheesy, don't I? But it's the truth. I've loved you for a _long_ time, Franny. I've loved you long before you even started dating boys. I just shoved it away."

His blue eyes shining with incurable regret and love, Cornelius turned away.

"I understand if you hate me and never want to see me again. I understand if you told me that I'm creepy and don't deserve you. I would do anything for you, Franny, even if you told me to kill myself in the most painful way possible. You see, I love you."

Tears pooling in his eyes, he turned to go.

"Wait!"

Franny took a deep breath. "Cornelius—I'm sorry too. For all the pain I put you through. I—I was confused and scared. What if it had been just a trick by my brothers? I couldn't've stood the pain of rejection, even if you hadn't really rejected me.

"I've always liked you, Cornelius. I didn't _love _you when I met you, but I liked you, somewhat. Then you started gaining fame and getting cuter, and that was when I started my crush on you. It was a crush at first, but as the years passed and I began getting boyfriends, somehow I ended up comparing them to you, and finding them lacking. And now, I'm sixteen—six years have passed since I started my crush—and I know now that I love you. I love you with _all_ my heart, Cornelius."

A moment later, they were kissing.

What do you get when you mix a genius' secret love, allowed to boil and simmer for years, and a musical marvel's crush that eventually turned into love?

_Fire_. It burned with the locked-away passion of six long years, and love that has been let simmer for too long. The kiss was an outlet, an escape of sorts. Years afterward, questioned _how_ it happened, they would always smile and shake their heads. "It was impossible for us to remember."

I simply cannot describe how they kissed, but I do know it was a kiss of pure _love_. Further than that I cannot describe it.

_**10 years later...**_

"Cornelius?"

The genius inventor smiled at his long time girlfriend. "Yeah, Franny?"

"I love you, sweetie. I'm so glad you confiscated those doodles when you had the chance."

Cornelius smiled at her warmly, and pulled out a bit of paper from his pocket. Franny looked at it curiously.

_Mrs. Francesca Robinson_, it said. A gorgeous border of frogs and lab coats adorned it.

He knelt and asked, "Would you like to be Mrs. Francesca Robinson—for real, Franny?" as he pulled out a stunning diamond ring.

Franny stared at him, incredulous, and then sprang at him. As she kissed him with everything in her, Cornelius heard her breathe, "You need to ask, darling?"

* * *

**So what do you think? Cute, awful, amazing, horrible, simply brilliant, totally stupid, or what? Whatever you think, leave it in a review. I would so appreciate feedback!**


End file.
